For Love of Darkness
by beautiful-illusions
Summary: Sunako Nakahara gets enrolled in a new school. Creatures of the light are everywhere, but when she believes she can't take anymore, she finds unexpected solace in the darkness.. [Nekozawa x Sunako]


For Love of Darkness

Disclaimer:

Ouran Host Club and Perfect Girl Evolution (Wallflower) are copyright their respective owners.

Summary:

Sunako Nakahara gets enrolled in a new school. Creatures of the light are everywhere, but when she believes she can't take anymore, she finds unexpected solace in the darkness.. Nekozawa x Sunako

Rated:

PG

This place, the girl thought to herself, staring out from beneath the black veil of her long bangs, was terrifying. It almost made her miss those creatures of the light who had been inhabiting her home for two weeks of awkward and painful contact. At least they had started to become familiar. She had thought, then, that she could not stand it. She'd finally won, after a series of pranks and a long contest of wills. In the end, after she'd endured nearly more than she thought she could stand of their bright faces, the four boys had acknowledged it as impossible, and being unable to pay the rent under the new terms of the deal, finally left her alone in the big house again. Which was pure, blissful relief... until (her Aunt) came up with a new strategy. One far, far worse than she ever could have imagined.

She clenched her hands harder on the school bag she was holding and slouched her shoulders more, wishing she had the comfort of the black robe she often wore, or at least the solid black of their old school uniforms. She'd thought she would melt just looking at the bright, cheerful yellow of the new one, was sure it would burn her skin when she shrugged it on.

The midday sunlight slanting in the tall elegant windows of the second floor hall was making her head ache. She needed reprieve.. something, anything. A quiet, dark room where she could be alone until classes started up after the lunch period.

She searched the signs as she walked, ignoring the students who whispered, gazes turning in her direction, footsteps giving her a wide berth in the hall. First reading room. First music room. Second floor library. Second music room. They were all filled with people, she could hear the buzz of their chatter from behind the closed doors. Ah, there. Third music room, there shouldn't be anyone in there. She set her ear to the door. She thought she heard murmurs, the faint rattle of a teacup, but she couldn't be sure. Casting a furtive glance down the hall, she wrapped her pale hand around the door handle and pulled.

She was momentarily blinded, as if her mind had suddenly thrown up a barrier between her eyes and the place where sight logically registered into thought. The only thought she could manage to decipher was that it was strange for a music room to smell so much like tea and roses.. something had been spoken, but she didn't register what. When her mind started working, it all became clear. This room was the last place in the entire school she wanted to be. She shrieked, surprised, and threw her hands up in front of her face, backing away so quickly she tripped over her skirt. The dark-haired girl went down like a bag of bricks, skinny arms windmilling hopelessly for a moment before she thudded against the hard floor, landing rather painfully on her right elbow and hip, sending blood droplets flying everywhere from her nose, which had started bleeding violently, suddenly. But there was no time to think about pain. The dark-haired one had already stepped forward in concern, and the rest were getting over their shock at her screech and were aiming to go access the damage. She needed to get -out-. She braced her hands against the ground, leaving behind bloody handprints on the marble from where her hands had covered her face, and scrambled back to her feet, taking off at a run, realizing only after she'd started off that she'd forgot her bag in front of the door. Too late now, she wasn't going back.

There'd been a whole -group- of them. She'd thought four was bad. Seven was far worse, and they'd all been -looking- at her, with those dazzling smiles, and blinding radiance. Beautiful creatures of the light. It twisted the knife harder as her heartbeat leapt. The flutter of hope - that she'd been smiled at - had to be crushed immediately. She looked around wildly for an escape option, her unkempt black hair a mess, blood smeared down her chin and staining the white collar of her uniform dress. There. Third Floor Chemistry Room. She seized the double doors in both hands and pulled, throwing herself inside, and letting them slam closed behind her.

Darkness enveloped her. Finally. Blissful, complete, quiet darkness. With a sob of relief she collapsed on the polished, smooth floor, quivering. It had been too much for her. It was all too much. This school, the stupid uniform, the glamor and elegance and mirrors and gold everywhere. She was angry, lost, and overwhelmed, feeling like a dark, homeless foreigner in a land of bright princes and princesses, brought only to be ridiculed and alienated.. her hands had clenched back into tight fists, against the floor, so hard that her ragged, never-trimmed nails dug into her palms enough to break the skin. On top of all of that, the nosebleed would likely ruin her expensive uniform unless she got to a bathroom to wash it out, and she didn't even want to imagine how she was going to go about that.

Suddenly, her musings were broken by a soft touch to the top of her head. Partly comforting, partly, she thought, to get her attention. Come to think of it, someone had spoken something. She was only just now pulled out of the thick haze of her own muddled, violent thoughts enough to realize. "...You're bleeding. Here." The words were repeated, in a velvety, rich voice, and she lifted her eyes just slightly, vision adjusting slowly back to the darkness. A strangely menacing-looking cat puppet was holding out a black handkerchief with both hands. The absurdity of the situation struck her suddenly, and she couldn't help the strangely hysterical giggle that forced it's way out of her before she bit it back. No, it wasn't just a cat puppet. It was a boy. She took the handkerchief, as politely as she could, from the arms of the pale yellow cat, who seemed to be staring at her inquisitively, and perhaps a little maliciously, and covered the lower half of her face with it, wiping at the blood. Yes, it was a boy - crouched opposite her. She hadn't heard him walk towards her, but he must have, after she collapsed. He was wearing...he was wearing a dark hooded robe, that looked a lot like her own. Her heart leapt, suddenly, in excitement more than anything, at the freak chance that maybe, just maybe, she'd just found someone who might -understand-. All that aside, he looked concerned, a frown touching his features beneath a fringe of black hair. "Are you all right? Did someone hurt you?" His hand had dropped from her head as soon as he'd had her attention, and she realized he was crouched a respectable distance away. She also realized that she needed to come up with some explanation.

"I- I'm fine. I just.. I was looking for... I mean, I accidentally... next door...I couldn't.." She inhaled a shaky breath, and exhaled it, more calmly. The dark, and quiet, and the strangely comforting presence of the mysterious boy who had been sitting in here before her arrival was helping calm her nerves, previously frayed to the snapping point. "Sorry." She concluded, sort of lamely. Instead of responding, though, he'd set his lips into a thin line and stood, looking rather scary himself, for a moment, before he turned with a swish of heavy black material and stalked towards a side door, that connected to the Third Music Room.

It was not typical, Nekozawa thought to himself, for the famed Host Club to injure a girl's sensibilities so badly. He had no clue what on earth they had done to the poor female student currently huddled on the floor of the Dark Magic Club, but he fully intended to find out. His sense of worldly justice, while certainly not as strong as some people's, demanded it of him nonetheless.

When he emerged into the light, after a moment of silently setting his teeth and letting his eyes adjust to the glare, he saw the members of the Host Club standing around a table, looking down at something. He crept closer, trying to get a better look.

"Sunako Nakahara. Second year student, homeroom 12-A. It's a simple solution, we'll send this bag to the office, and they will look up her schedule, and have it delivered to her next class. " Kyouya's voice, cool and rational, reached Nekozawa's ears. As he drew even closer, he saw the bag in question. Kyouya was standing closest to it, an ID badge held between thumb and forefinger.

"But won't she be back for it? " Haruhi inquired, practically.

"With the way she ran out of here, I find the accuracy of that assumption rather doubtful." Kyouya replaced the ID badge in the bag, and pushed up his glasses, glinting as they caught the light.

"Something about her is slightly disturbing.. it's not a normal reaction for a girl to have, upon laying eyes upon my beautiful face.." Tamaki ran a hand back through his hair, thoughtfully concerned. "Is she really a student? What if she's a ghost! A vengeful spirit wandering the halls of the east wing.. Scary! With that black hair over her face... come to think of it, she reminds me a little of--"

"..Of who?"

The golden-haired King of the Host Club nearly jumped out of his skin, whirling around to face Nekozawa. "Ah! N-n-nothing!" He threw up his hands in defense and backed away a step, only to collide with the table, sending the girl's bag crashing to the floor. Nekozawa smirked, taking another step closer to Tamaki, who shivered visibly, unnerved. "N-n-nekozawa-sempai. Where did you come from just now?"

"That's not important." He took another step closer, as Tamaki backed up more, leaning down to pick up the girl's bag. "Nakahara Sunako, is it?" Shadowed blue eyes scanned the gathered Host Club, suspiciously. "What did you do to her? She ran through my doors bleeding and hysterical." The Host Club exchanged helpless glances. Tamaki spoke up, as their constantly self-designated spokesperson.

"Nothing! I swear, she just--"

"Shh. Don't give me excuses, Suou. If I find out you hosts have been picking on girls... well. I wonder what might happen? Heh heh." He turned away and shuffled back towards the side door he'd come in towards, chuckling darkly to himself. Tamaki and those bright-faced beautiful Hosts weren't as perfect as they made themselves out to be, perhaps... There was only a few minutes before the lunch bell rang. Closing the door behind him, and breathing a sigh of relief as the darkness closed around him again, he looked for the girl.

She hadn't moved from where he'd left her, much, only she'd sat up, and curled her arms around her legs, his black handkerchief clutched in one hand, face cleaned of blood, but the collar of her uniform still stained with it. There was something dark about her, Nekozawa thought, even dressed in the bright yellow of the Ouran girls' uniform. "You dropped your bag at the Host Club.. you should be more careful." He walked across the floor and set it down in front of her, pausing a moment, as if in thought, then continued on across the room to a closet, rummaging around. "Ah.." He took out a black bundle, and walked back to Sunako, shaking it out and draping it over her shoulders, expertly. It was a black robe identical to his own - a spare he kept in case of emergency, smelling vaguely like incense smoke, dust, and mothballs, but in working order for what the girl needed, perhaps.

The girl tilted her gaze up from under the black hood that had been draped over her head. "Thank you." Her voice was quiet, the edge of hysteria gone. "It was too much for me.. it's so bright out there. So many bright people. I felt like I would melt. And then them.. the Host Club.. I'd heard girls gossiping about them." A shudder. "They're blinding." She paused, tilting her head, curiously. "What were -you- doing here in the dark?"

"I... cannot stand the light, either. I was born that way. Ever since I was a small child, bright light and sunshine make me faint. Or loud noises, or being around large groups of people.. Besides. This room is the only one in the school with fully light-sealing automatic shutters." He pointed the fact out, as if therefore it would only make sense that he spent his lunch there. He walked around and blew out the candles, one by one, gathering them up and placing them back in the closet, picking up the large hourglass that had been sitting on a nearby table, lastly, and showing it to Sunako, as the last bit of sand rushed out of the top globe into the bottom. "Time's up."

She looked confused for a moment, but then she nodded, getting back to her feet, and pulling the cloak closer around her, reaching down to pick up her bag, silently.

"Come by after school, if you have the time. The Dark Magic Club holds it's meetings here, in the second floor chemistry room. I think.. you'd like it."

"D-dark Magic?" Her expression changed, suddenly, like a night-blooming flower opening to meet the moonlight. She fairly glowed, for a moment, and it made her inexplicably pretty. The way a vampiress might look upon spotting a particularly tasty human morsel wandering into her lair. A sort of glint had crept into the girl's eyes. An expression that those who knew Nekozawa at all were quite familiar with. "..I'll be there."

As he watched her turn and walk to the doorway, bracing herself for impact as she opened the doors, the light from the hallway flooding over her, he had the distinct feeling that she probably would...

Author's Note:

First fanfic I've written in ages... the pairing was inspired by a fanart drawing on DA, which I've linked to for this deviation---- 

which I did based on it. Then I figured.. why not whip out some fanfiction, too? Since I couldn't find anyone to roleplay Nekozawa with. ..But anyway, I just love Neko/Sunako together, so dark and lovely. Tell me what you think! I'll try to get the next chapter up soon!


End file.
